


Miss Sun

by 1498xo



Category: 1498xo
Genre: Asian Character(s), Asian-American Character, Bullying, Cheating, F/M, Groping, Korean Characters, Mother-Son Relationship, Netorare, Non-Consensual Groping, Raceplay, cucked
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-02-01 03:34:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21358699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1498xo/pseuds/1498xo
Summary: A son that's scolded by his Korean mother for being socially inept suddenly has to deal with his stunning mom failing to resist a white bully's sexual advances. Features very light raceplay.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Miss Sun

My mom was born Soon-ok, but here in the US everyone called her Sun or Sunny. She was pregnant with only one year of high school under her belt when she left South Korea with my dad to avoid troubles at home with her austere family. I knew that she was hot ever since I was a kid, since men never stopped staring or flirting with her wherever we went, and that always brought endless conflict between my parents. 

Most Asian girls are supposed to have cute faces, but my mother had never been that sort of anime tier cute thot. Her face was naturally expressionless (or should I say cunty?), with dark liquid eyes and full red lips, framed by lacquered black locks that reached down to her thinspo waist. The power of her resting bitch face got her stopped at airport whenever we went. The few times she tried to smile in thanks always backfired and came across as condescending to everyone else, including her own family. Just a mega ice queen. 

“I’m just not that type of girl,” she told me once as she drove me to school, explaining how she had never been the happy-go-lucky type her parents expected her to be. 

No, my mom was a long-legged doll with honeyed skin, with hips that made her silhouette unmistakable even from afar, and a pair of breasts that may have been big on an American girl, but which were positively obscene on a slender-limbed Korean that weighed under a hundred pounds.

We weren’t that close growing up (she was too young to even conceptualize me as her own) until I got to a dating age, at which point she started to question me relentlessly about the girls in my class and advised me on how to ask each one of them out. It made me sad, because it was so clear she wanted to live the school life she never had through me. Life had been good to her in America - she drove a sports car, lived in a mansion, and carried a credit card she never had to worry about - but at the end of the day she was still a housewife that spent all day by herself except the occasional phone call back home.

It took her a few years, but she soon figured out that not only could I not score with a girl, but that all the “friends” I went out with were made up, and that I only walked outside aimlessly for an allotted amount of time to please her. Our neighbors told her, probably because they were worried I might be mentally ill walking in that way all by myself. One night after a long conversation on the topic I could see her total disappointment, and later I heard her sobbing in the upstairs bathroom, speaking hush-hush in Korean to my aunt, saying, “I don’t know what to do with him anymore.” 

Ironic, I wasn’t the cute boy my parents wanted either.

Then Kyle happened. 

Kyle was one of the guys from my class, a total douche that loved to make others feel stupid, especially the teachers that he loved to correct and ended up loathing him. He was a strange bully, in that he was fat as fuck, with mantits flapping under his shirt, sporting the same ankle-length camo pants all year round, but he was also the best in our class, and seemingly effortlessly so.

We had zero contact, until one day when we ended up arguing about whether Team Fortress 2 or Overwatch was better and he beat the living shit out of me after class. He was in awful shape and seemed ready to collapse after it ended, sputtering around out of breath, but I was just a skinny Asian guy that weighed a third of what he did. I got bruised pretty bad, and Mom freaked out as soon as she saw me, insisting that she would go and get him kicked out the next day. 

Oh, she went all right, though nothing of the sort happened. We sat in the principal’s office until Kyle got pulled out of class, at which point the old woman reprimanded him some more as my mother watched, no doubt struggling a little to make out the finer points of the conversation as it went down in English. 

“Look at this fat bastard,” she told me in Korean, studying Kyle. Her legs were crossed elegantly as if she were some business down, her ringed fingers anxiously moving over the armrests. “He’s like a pancake. You couldn’t beat him up? I could beat him up.” Suddenly, I was the one being reprimanded instead.  _ Why don’t you beat him up? _ I wondered. Maybe then she’d shut the fuck up. Clearly, I wasn’t man enough for her tastes. 

Anyway, it ended quickly and we got up to go, though my mom stayed back to talk to the principal. Kyle (who got off, just as predicted by yours truly) stood in the doorway next to me, clearly ogling my mother’s figure. She wore a fancy pair of high-waisted and a little see-through pants with stiletto heels, and enough perfume that I could still smell it in the hallway the day after. 

“That’s your sister or your mom?” Kyle asked me, no doubt trying to make a point. His “ironic” vintage Star Wars shirt was sweaty. 

But really, people always made that mistake. She just had me at such a young age and took such good care of herself that I figured after I hit twenty they would think I’m the older one. I ate like shit and never exercised, while she was up until 1am applying lotions and creams to her body. Self-care, my mom’s life was all about self-care. “My mom.” 

“She’s hot as fuck.” 

I gazed at the fattie, wondering what I was supposed to say to that. 

Mom came and closed the door behind her, and noticed Kyle was hanging around. “What does he want?”

“I don’t know.” 

Kyle frowned, intrigued by what he thought we might have been saying. For as smart as he may have been, he was the same sort of dumbshit white American that only spoke English and three words of anything else. 

Then he looked at me. “Hey, I’m sorry about beating you up. Maybe we can be friends?” His chubby hand reached out, but the last thing I wanted was to shake it. I knew he only did it because he wanted to make a good impression with Mom. 

She kept nudging me to shake it, until she finally forced me to do it awkwardly. “You’re so fucking rude!” she snapped to me in Korean. “Is this how I raised you? No wonder you have no friends!” I could almost hear it in the tone,  _ No wonder he beat you up _ . 

These were very big words from a woman that at most spoke to maybe three people a day: me, Dad, and Auntie.

For some reason she took it one step forward and apologized to Kyle, saying that I had told her about how good he is in school, and how she hoped we could patch things up. Somehow, he managed to butt his way into our life, and Mom was now inviting him to have lunch. 

“Classes aren’t over,” I told her. 

Kyle was already going after his bag, and my mom waved away the notion like it was nothing. 

He got into her white leather interior Porsche, all giddy, and I cursed Mom in English under my breath. Why the hell was she bringing this cretin into our life? 

At home we sat down in the living room while she cooked us lunch, though Kyle kept repeating how hot she is. “I have a strange feeling, my friend.” 

“What’s that?” I asked him. 

“I have a feeling that your mom and I are going to end up very good friends. Very good.” 

The thought made me upset but I kept my mouth shut. My dad wasn’t home and he probably wouldn’t be coming for hours. He only ever got home in the evening, after long hours at the office. “Keep dreaming.” He was mistaking beauty for socializing skills. Sure, my mom was hot, but she was about as bad as me at socializing, which made all her criticisms so poignantly ironic, something I came to realize more and more over time. 

Kyle went into the kitchen and offered to help her cook, though my mom was only standing and cutting some vegetables, an apron wrapped around her front. He stood and chatted her up, even getting her to laugh a few times, glancing down at the round ass that blatantly curved away from her body. 

_ Go ahead _ , I thought to myself. _ Touch it. Do it and you’ll be out of our fucking lives _ . Why did my mom even invite this fat loser in the first place?

Another annoying thing is that he called her by her first name. Like, where did he get off. “Sun, you’re so beautiful,” he suddenly told her. 

Mom’s face remained in control as she cut the tomatoes, though a soft blush spread over her cheeks. “Don’t say things like this. You should say this to girls at school.” Her English was more imperfect than usual all of a sudden. I was pretty sure my mom spoke better English than that.

“They aren’t nearly as gorgeous as you,” he insisted. “I wish you were my mom.” 

The last comment was just fucked up. How would it help if she was his mom? 

Her head turned, the light refracting beautifully along her dark hair as it whipped around with it.“Where’s your mom?” 

The question only got a simple shrug out of him. “Dunno. Getting high somewhere, probably.” 

Her dark eyes narrowed. “What’s  _ high _ ?” 

“You know—drugs?”

“Oh.” Mom’s brows went up, then she nodded solemnly. Any other person would have put a sorry in there, but not my mother. She just acknowledged the misfortunes of others like a phone bill and moved on. 

Kyle kept eyeing her ass as the toned cheeks flexed under the white linen and the fabric rustled with her movements. Then he just raised his hand to her lower back, and casually lowered it until it rested over her ass. “You’ve got an incredible body, Miss Sun.” 

Mom stopped cutting but that was all she did. The blush erupted even further and she blinked rapidly. After a few moments, she breathlessly responded with a simple, “Thank you.” 

His palm kept running over her tight buns, as if appraising their peachy roundness and comfy warmth. “You must go to the gym a lot to get glutes like these.” 

Why wasn’t my mom doing anything? It made no sense. I stood there in the doorway, frozen, my heart thrumming in my chest, wondering how much longer she would put up with it until she slapped his shit and sent him home. 

The knife cut down into a carrot. “I go every morning.”

Kyle glanced at me as he felt up my mom’s butt and grinned with satisfaction. “It’s worth it. You can tell this took years and years of hard work.” He raised his hand to her waist and got behind her, pressing into her back like some sweetheart that just got home. 

Finally, Mom reacted with a little more vigor, though just as uncertain as before. “W-What are you doing?!” There just wasn’t enough anger and indignancy in her tone for what he was doing!

The hairy arms wrapped around my mom’s wispy body and held her as if she were his girlfriend. Though she was almost double his age, the size discrepancy between them favored him, as it still looked natural despite it all. My mom was tall for a Korean, but Kyle was tall for a white guy, and he still towered over her.

“Will you go out with me, Miss Sun? Please?” It sounded joky, but not entirely.

“Kyle…” The knife fell from her hand and she kept banging the counter with the ends of her hands nervously. “What are you saying?” This was truly getting to her.

“I love you, Miss Sun.” 

Like that moment when you realize your mouse stopped moving and that nothing else works on the computer either and it’s fucked, my mom just froze, not knowing how to respond to any of this. God knows where the difficulty came from for her, but she just didn’t seem to have an answer for him. They stood there for a long time, him holding her from behind and cuddling her against his fat body, my mom panicking silently, until the doorbell rang. She took that opportunity and ran away from him to take a package that had just arrived. 

Left alone, Kyle gave me a smug look, “You were saying?” 

Mom came back walking on eggshells, doing her best to stay out of his reach and keeping the box against her chest as a separator. “Honey… Why don’t you take Kyle in your room and play some games?” Before, she wanted us to be far away from the “damned games,” which she blamed for everything bad in my life. “I’ll come get you when food is done.” 

From her tone alone you could tell that she was off, and I couldn’t understand why she wasn’t just sending him home for this clear breach of trust. “Just tell him to go!” I snapped. 

“Just let him eat and then he’ll go,” she said, trying not to look at Kyle, as if that was some kind of final mercy toward him. I guess she invited him for lunch and had yet to serve it, and my mom could be autistic about such things. 

As soon as we got into the bedroom, Kyle noticed my waifu figurine display under glass, containing some fifty different girls. I was very proud of it. “Dude, what the fuck? You’re such a perverted little weeb.” He tapped the glass like dumb people do with aquariums, looking for a way to open it. Thank Christ, the glass door was locked, and he didn’t even know how to pop it open anyway.

“Get this thing open,” he told me.

“No.” 

He stormed towards me and grabbed me by the shirt. “You want me to beat you up, dude? Do you seriously think I’m going to break them, or something?” The notion offended him. “I’ll break you first.”

“Please!” I begged him. Then I could be rid of him. “Go ahead! Do it!” 

He pushed into the bed in disgust, not knowing how else to respond. “Stupid little Asian faggot.” 

I sat at the edge and watched him, making sure he wouldn’t break anything as he went around the room inspecting things. “You have all three consoles? And a computer? And an iPad?” He lifted up my Breath of the Wild copy. “Can I play this?”

“I guess.” 

In a way, I almost felt bad for him. Almost. Like all bullies, he clearly came from some sort of broken home, even if he was the best in class. If not for the shit with my mom, maybe I would’ve tried to look past our previous interactions and made friends and gotten to the bottom of his real troubles and helped him. My dad knew some top shrinks. After all, having a meathead like this on my side would’ve been a good thing, especially if I could reason with him past caveman speech. But all I could think was that he had pawed at my mom’s ass. And that was unforgivable.

Almost an hour passed, during which we talked about games. “I wish I had a Switch, man,” he told. “I miss playing Zelda. I used to have a Wii, but my mom fucking sold it. Sucks.” 

I knew I shouldn’t have said it. He was such a fucking retard, but my heart just wasn’t made to accept things like these. I didn’t want to live in a world where people couldn’t even afford to play a game, fuckheads or no. “If you want, I can loan it to you to play it.” 

His head snapped back. “For real?”

“Sure.” 

He seemed confused about his own feelings. “Dude... I’m sorry I hit you. You’re cool. Never again.” 

Sorry that he hit me? “You need to leave my mom alone, though.” 

At that, he just laughed and grinned. “That’s a different story, dude. Your mom’s a big lady. She can make her own choices. What’s it to you, anyway? If you wanted to fuck my mom, I’d let you.” 

“Is she hot?” 

“No. My sister is. Look her up on Facebook.” 

I almost did it, though thankfully I first wondered what the hell was wrong with me. “I’m not negotiating. Leave my mom alone. Then you can have the Switch or whatever you want.” I knew it was a bad deal on my end, but I just needed it to stop. 

The door opened and my mom peeked in. “Food’s ready.” 

“Hey, Miss Sun…” Kyle paused the game and got up. “I wanted to apologize for before.” 

My mom listened, eager to hear words that might put an end to this charade. No doubt it was embarrassing for her as well. After all, she had just been groped by her son’s friend in her own home. And by a white guy no less… 

My father would likely have killed them both.

And maybe me too for just watching.

“Okay…” 

The door opened and she stepped inside, ready to hear him out. He started slowly, saying he just doesn’t didn’t any better, that he’s an awful guy from a broken home, all sad puppy eyes, but then… “I just find it hard to control myself around you, Miss Sun,” he said, taking her by the hand. 

Oh, no… This fucking guy was at it again with his Miss Sun shit. 

Mom blushed all over again and her eyelashes fluttered like butterflies about to take off. “Uhm… I’m sorry.” 

“No, I’m sorry,” Kyle insisted, unabated. “I just don’t know how to act around such a beautiful woman. Especially a Korean beauty such as yourself. I never knew anything could be this fucking beautiful,” he said with extreme emphasis. 

“Oh.” 

She just stared at him, overwhelmed by the words pouring out of his fat mouth. Maybe if English was her first language she would’ve known how to handle the situation a little better and fine-tune her responses; but she seemed stuck between being flattered by his words to the extreme and also wanting to be an understandable and kind host. 

As he talked, he slowly, ever so slowly, pulled her along until they were right next to the bed. Mom was too focused on his praises to pay much attention to any of it. Even as he dropped down in bed and pulled her along with him, he was still saying how sorry he was for what he had done before. 

And he was doing worse things now.

My mom’s eyes opened in horror as she fell into my bed, right next to him. She immediately tried to rise but Kyle held her down, which wasn’t very hard given how much lighter she was. “What are you doing?...” Her voice was shaky and weak, petering out quickly. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, Miss Sun.” He threw a leg over hers to hold her down and he might as well have put a log there. If she wasn’t going anywhere before, she definitely wasn’t going anywhere now. Even so, her hands kept going up in the air as if she were trying to get a hold of a handle to pull herself up, though the fattie patiently grabbed one at a time and brought them back down, doing his best to soothe her. 

“Calm down, Miss Sun, calm down…” he whispered. 

_ Calm down? How can she calm down you piece of shit? You’re holding her down in bed!! _ I couldn’t believe this… This… This fucking white trash was toying with my mom in our own home… Getting down with her into our own bed…

Mom just gaped at him, clueless and mesmerized. Not by his beauty or strength, but just by his outstanding daring in doing what could have gotten him killed. No doubt back home they would have murdered this fat fuck for trying something like this, or worse. For daring to touch a married woman in this way, a married high-class Korean lady. 

Kyle reached up and stroked her cheek. “Miss Sun?” 

Mom jumped and let out a shuddering breath. “Kyle…” 

“Shhh, it’s alright… I won’t hurt you, I promise. I would kill anyone that hurt you, you’re a princess. A goddess.” He went on caressing her cheek with the back of his hand, slowly bringing his fingers down towards her wet mouth and its glossy red lips. His thumb touched the lower one, then followed it as it curved all the way to the other side. “You’re so hot… I seriously can’t help myself around you, Miss Sun. I’m sorry. You must think I’m so awful.” 

He was. He wasn’t just awful, he was committing a crime… This was rape, wasn’t it? Close to it, at least. As close to it as I could imagine. I just wanted Mom to say something, anything. She didn’t have to throw him off, she just needed to scream and slap him, or even tell me to call the police. Instead, she just accepted his bullshit and took it… And with me there, watching it all, it was too awkward in my position to even speak or acknowledge what was happening. _ This is my mother… _ was the only thought that echoed through my mind, as if the nature of the world were meant to stop this from happening. 

I admit, the fact that he was white did bother me a great deal. Every other Asian girl I knew in middle-school and high-school all ended up with white guys… though none of them were as beautiful as my mom. Which sounds weird, I know, but it’s true, and it gave me comfort. And Mom never responded to any advances despite my father’s endless paranoia, and most certainly never looked twice at white guys over here in America…

“I don’t think… This is normal…” she said, arching her back away from the bed, and getting her bouncy boobs to sway at the same time. Seriously, that’s all she could come up with? 

“No, it isn’t. I know. It’s my bad. I’m sorry, Miss Sun.” And with that his fat face slowly came down and planted a kiss on her lips. 

I could see my tiny Korean doll of a mother tremble as this fat fucker dared made contact with her mouth, but once he drew back she only went on staring at him, breathing hard, her face entirely red, a film of sweat brimming across her forehead. 

As he came back down to give her another kiss, I thought that would be her breaking point, but she let it happen again… Spurred on by her lack of defense, Kyle kissed her harder, bringing his hand under her head to better control her. “You’re so fucking hot…” he whispered. 

This time as they separated a momentary flash of light caught my eye. Was… Was there spit involved? Had it been a wet kiss? Just thinking about it made me go crazy. This was my home, my mom, my bedroom, my bed… _ Stop _ , I begged them. _ Please _ . 

Kyle grinned at her and again stroked her face as if she were some regal, purring cat. “Oh, Miss Sun, you taste amazing… I love you so much. Does your husband ever tell you how beautiful you are?” 

Mom opened her mouth to speak, then looked inwardly for a second. “No,” she admitted plainly. 

“Well, you are beautiful. I’d kill for you. Even just for your face. And your body is… insane.” Kyle’s hand came hovering down across her lewd body, pausing momentarily over her heaving chest, less than half an inch away from making direct contact with it. It settled down on her stomach first, testing the waters, then made its way up… up… up… until his palm came to rest over the curve of her breast. 

“I bet these are real,” he said, not entirely sure.

The movement of my mother’s face was infinitesimally small. I was all the way across the room at my desk, so maybe it was all in my head. But despite it all, I thought I saw… My mother’s lips and eyes coming together to make a tiny, restrained smile, that for the first time in her life looked sincere. “Very real.” 

“Miss Sun, do you know how there used to be slaves in America? Like, how black people were enslaved here?” 

The question confused her. It took her a second to think back and say, “Yes.” Then after three more seconds she added, as if remembering it was socially required, “Sad.” 

“Well, I’ll be your slave if you let me make love to you just once, Miss Sun. I’ll do whatever you want. Anything.” His fingers pressed gently into her breast as he came down for another kiss. Her mouth was open as he started moving and stayed open as he reached her, and his hand dug into her breast as the kiss began. 

I watched helplessly from my chair as this white guy groped my mom’s tits and made out with her, as he had slowly withered away her resistance and now claimed her for his pleasure. My beautiful and pure and innocent Korean mom that never did anything with anyone… 

His hand was moving again, this time going past her stomach until it reached her crotch. His fingers lightly caressed the area. I heard what sounded like a low moan.

My mom broke the kiss and looked away from him. Finally! 

She looked pale and determined.

Finally, it was over! He had taken it way too far!!

“Son,” she said in clear Korean.

I got up immediately, ready to call the police. “Y-Yeah?” 

Her little teeth bit her lip and her eyes closed.

“Get out.” 

There was no way I heard that right. “What?”

A pained exhalation left her trembling lips. “Please leave.” 

I stared at her, at them both lying there on my bed, and an icy chill crept up my spine. She wanted me to… go? And leave her with him? 

“Now.” 

I padded away silently and got to the hallway, then closed the door behind me. 

Now I could hear hushed whispers from the other side and Kyle’s voice victoriously proclaiming, “Miss Sun…” 

And then she moaned.


End file.
